Piano Man
by darthgrim666
Summary: Some things are best left alone. Harry Potter, after the disastrous events of the Final Battle is one of those things.


A/N I wrote this when I got bored of reading fanfics one time. I'm not quite sure how good it is, or even if i will finish it. But I have been told that I am not the worst writer, so decided to see if it was worthy.

Summary: Harry leaves after the final battle, too many souls were lost. Now twenty years later the world of magic wanders its way back into his life, Harry is not pleased.

Piano Man

Piano Man: Prologue

A woman rushed down a side alley in the maze that made up the outskirts of London; there was no lighting for at least another 50 feet, glancing backwards every so often, there was always a flickering shadow cast by the streetlamps off on the main street. It smelled of urine and she was sure that if she glanced down she would be able to spot at least five different blood stains, hopefully hers would never be one of them. Her brown hair bounced as she continued to move, the shadows twist and turned around her, but there was nothing.

"You can come out now, I know you're there." She said to the empty alley, hoping beyond hope that she was the only one there and that it was just her imagination running wild that had her jumping at the shadows.

Her prayers were not to be answered, for even as she spoke, a man wearing black robes that seemed to absorb the light around him stepped into view from the shadows to her right. His soulless eyes flashed in the streetlight. As he emerged, he deliberately brought his hand up and pointed a long, spindly finger at her. He was dressed in a suit complete with bowtie, which mixed garishly with his long inhuman face, malnourished in death. His aforementioned finger was almost completely bone and skin, no tissue to speak of. His smile showed off sharp fangs and rotting teeth, but by far his most hideous feature was his eye. Singular. All in all he was the epitome of why vampires were feared.

"You cannot escape, my master wishes for your death and so I shall grant it to you," said the man, as the tip of his finger caught fire and began to glow ominously. "As was once the custom, you shall die by fire, to purge you of your sins." A ball of fire howled into existence and shot at the woman who had leapt desperately to the left as the fire was launched by the being of ancient evil.

Distantly behind her she could hear a man shouting about a ball of fire that had come rocketing out of the alley, but she had no time to listen. Her clothes had caught on fire as the ball of flames passed, and she need to be out of them now.

"You are not your master," the woman shouted desperately, still trying to get out of her outer robe, "you are but a shadow".

The creature gave a mocking laugh which quickly turned into a chocking wheeze as a sword seemed to materialize where its throat was.

"I hate having to run around and save people like this," said the newest figure to enter the small, dirty alley, "I was just getting ready to perform my big number."

The vampire gurgled in fear and turned to run out the other end of the alley. The vampire stopped when the air in that direction crackled to life, the smell of ozone filled the air. When it turned back the man was already gone from his previous place and was walking out the opposite end of the alley. As he stepped out the sword flew from the ground where it had fallen after the vampire had yanked it from his neck and into a cloaked sleeve where it seemingly disappeared into the shadows.

"Why do you run little bird?" The vampire hissed, "is it because you know, you cannot defeat me and are trying to escape?"

The man sighed and turned back around to the vampire whose throat was already healing over, the blood flow had stopped and a scab was forming before her eyes.

"You dogs never learn your lesson, too caught up in your own superiority, to notice that I happen to be, at least, ten times more powerful than you." The man clicked his finger and the air around the vampire caught on fire instantly, screams for mercy were ignored in favour of turning around and continuing his journey out of the alley.

The woman, ignored by both combatants, until this point, snapped out of her shock and rushed towards the mouth of the alley intending to catch up to her saviour. She was disappointed, however, because as she looked around the main street there was nothing out of the ordinary. Except for the distant echo of the vampire's screams and the flickering light cast by her still burning robes. She cursed and hurried up the street, searching for the man.

The man sighed as he watched her figure fade into the distance, the sound of her shoes fading as well. Before lighting a cigarette and jumping down from his perch on the corner of a building opposite the mouth of the alley, his magic taking the fall for him. Soon he too had wandered away in his own direction, leaving the alleyway just one of many in the area with dark, soot stained patches.

The bar was filled with old men laughing uproariously when she entered, but they all quieted down once the piano started to play, a haunting melody that followed no pattern, but still somehow ended up exactly where it needed to be. The man playing the piano glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as she took a seat, but seemingly ignored her for the rest of the song. Susan took the time to examine her surroundings in the dim glow of the typical bar. The piano, and the man playing it, were raised slightly on a podium, so that everyone could see the player, face shrouded in shadows.

The men at the bar were looking at her now, she may not have been the most beautiful of women, but she far outpaced the other three women at the bar. Her brown hair had lustre to it that the other women did not have; Susan also had all her teeth. She looked away quickly and ignored the feeling of disgust at the men around her. Fools.

The other three women were looking at her now, silently judging, weighing up whether or not she was there to steal their precious boyfriends. They eventually came to the conclusion that she was, in fact, there to steal their boyfriends. Also fools.

In fact, the only one that didn't seem to be looking at her was the piano player. He was dressed in a tuxedo that really did not fit in with the general mood of the pub. His hair was dark, his skin pale and he was wearing sunglasses, at night.

Now that she had staked out a table, she wandered over to the bar to get a drink; it looked like she would be here for a while, what with the way the piano was going. She sighed and waited for the bartender to come closer so she could place an order.

"Two beers," said Susan with her best no-nonsense voice.

"Right, coming up, little lady," the bartender was a fat man with laugh lines around his mouth and eyes. His eyes seemed only slightly curious as to why she was here, but she paid them no heed. Once she had collected her drinks she strode back to her table hoping that she wasn't confronted by anyone looking for a good-time or something equally beneath her, for the second time that night, lady luck did not smile upon her.

"Hey there sexy, how'd you like to spend the night with me?" His words were all mumbled, the man was so drunk he couldn't even remember how to talk right.

"No thanks, I don't sleep with men, especially those who drink themselves under the table before we get to know each other," said Susan in answer.

"Come on babe, I'm not that drunk, I can still walk and see straight." At this Susan looked at the man in disbelief, how he could possibly expect her to believe that, she didn't know.

"I'm not going to sleep with you, now leave me alone, go and talk to one of those other sluts." She hoped the situation would be over now but still no luck.

"Alright, now you listen here," the man shouted, "I won't be talked to like that, especially by some ruddy, uptight bitch like you!"

Susan ignored him and turned to walk away, but he grabbed her by the arm and turned her to face him, his breath smelt of beer, and his face was what could pass for handsome, if not for the fact that it was twisted in rage with bloodshot eyes. She pulled away easily, because not only was he drunk, but he had no muscles to speak of and started to make her way back to her table, behind her she could hear running, she sighed, turned around and started to talk the man again when she saw his fist cocked back as if to punch her.

"That'll do Nathan; we wouldn't want your wife to find out now would we." The piano player had grabbed his fist as he went to punch her. Somehow he had managed to make his way over to them without her noticing. Unexpectedly the man broke down and started sobbing.

"Please don't tell Charlene." He was still crying, bawling now. "She'll be so disappointed, I told her that I was done drinking, you have to believe me Harry!" Harry glanced at her as his name was spoken; he saw the flash of recognition.

"I won't tell her, but you best be getting home now, you're a tad too drunk to be here alone." Harry gave a soft smile. He led the drunken man, Nathan, back to the bar and whispered quietly to the barman, he nodded and helped Nathan out around the back.

"C'mon Nate, I'll take you home," the bartender was saying as he walked away.

Harry made his way back over to her and then stopped; everyone had long since started to ignore them after the drama surrounding her died down, these people were fickle. He jerked his head and walked towards the back of the bar, towards the door Nathan had left through not too long ago, she followed feeling unsure of herself.

"What do you want Susan, why are you here, don't drag me back into that world, I'm through, it's over, twenty years over," he sounded tired and weary.

"Come back with me, our world still needs you, we still need you!" She was babbling now, "the vampires are getting bolder, their targeting members of the Wizengamot, among them my Aunt."

"I don't care."

Those three words stopped her heart dead, this was not the man she had known throughout her Hogwarts days. What could have happened to make him this way? She had memories of him, charging into battle, protecting people, fighting evil. How could they have left him alone in this state for so long, festering in silence?

"Go away Susan, your kind isn't wanted here." She reeled back as if struck.

"You and I are the same you dolt," she said, "and you will come back with me."

He said nothing as walked back inside the bar, ignoring her words, and her, completely. Susan made to follow him in, but when she reached the door and tried to turn it, she discovered it was locked. She tried every unlocking spell she knew but the door would not budge. Eventually she gave up and walked away, at least she knew where he was now, and there would be no escape if she ever came back.

Harry sighed as he lent against the door. It didn't matter really, but this was an added complication, in his already complicated life. Soon he would have to move again so that they would never know where he was. He made his way back into the main section of the bar, nodding at the newly returned bartender as he got back on stage and sat down at the old piano, the haunting melody of the piano played long into the night, until morning came and he left for his latest apartment. All the while thinking of where he should go next. He had known it was a mistake to come back to England, he had been happy in Germany, why had he come back.

Susan Bones was in trouble, the kind of trouble that came into your house at night, stole everything, including your girlfriend and your last fire whiskey, and then still had time to trash your house.

"Dammit Hermione, what have you gotten yourself into now." She looked around the destroyed room, and found a note, from Ron, written in blood. It was some kind of gibberish about him knowing that they were in league with the vampires. Susan felt it safe to assume that the note had been written while under the influence of her missing fire whisky.

What she wouldn't give for that fire whiskey now, she thought sadly. Her apartment was trashed, there were long dragging stains of blood in the hallway, as if someone had desperately tried to hang on with bloodstained hands. Against her better judgement she followed the trail and came to the bedroom, where her heart froze. There, in the middle of the bed was a necklace, the inscription was covered in blood but she still knew what it would say. She had given it to Hermione three days ago after all.

Hermione, Soul-mate, Forever.


End file.
